


Shift

by scipunx



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Character Interpretation, F/M, Pre-Series, Pre-ship, adolescence is sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-21
Updated: 2014-07-21
Packaged: 2018-02-09 20:58:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1997550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scipunx/pseuds/scipunx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He makes her a broken promise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shift

A bitter winter chill nips at Asuma’s cheeks as he takes another drag from his cigarette, inhaling a smoky warmth that fills his lungs. Kurenai is shivering and warming her hands by the fire. They’re serving their shift on watch while they sit around the blazing campfire with dense snow crunching underneath their sandals.

“Th-those things are g-going to kill you,” she shoots him a glare while her teeth chatters from the cold.

“More like the field’s gonna be the death of me,” he nonchalantly breathes out the miasma of smoke.

Her crimson lips purse for a sharp moment before she snaps, “Don’t say that!”

“Didn’t know you cared,” Asuma smirks.

His teammate looks down, the blush in her cheeks reddening even further than from the freezing weather. Tapping out a cigarette from the pack, he extends an arm out to her in an offering but she simply shakes her head and smacks it away.

“Of course I care,” Kurenai mutters, crossing her arms and hugging herself. She still avoids any eye-contact with him.

“And here I thought that you hated my guts.”

She has the nerve to look abashed as she turns her head away, digging her fingers into her thick coat. Asuma openly stares as she nervously bites her lip and tucks a wavy strand of hair behind her ear. The kunoichi then snaps her ruby eyes back at him and he hastily averts his gaze, feigning attention at a particularly interesting empty spot in the snowy distance. He draws another puff from his cigarette, the mist of his breath mixing with the smoke on exhale.

“I never meant it, you know.”

Asuma waits for her to finish, watching her struggle to articulate the right words.

“When I first met you, I mean…” Kurenai pauses, takes a shuddery breath and continues. “I never hated you, Asuma.”

She finally says his name.

All this time, it had been a blunt and mocking “Sarutobi”, a jeering reminder of the prestigious background that plagues his reputation. His own skill and merit are always disregarded in place of a supposed genetic predisposition that naturally explains his talent. The Sandaime’s son would obviously follow in his wonderful father’s footsteps as a gifted ninja, would always be shown favouritism and have undeserved praise heaped up on his shoulders. Kurenai never let him forget it and he’d resented her for the way she instinctively seemed to know his insecurities, at how she deliberately poked fun at them.

Over time, Asuma saw her own weaknesses come to surface, at how she shamelessly and openly bore them in defiance. Childish resentment gradually became wary admiration as he began to notice how her eyes mirrored the colour of rubies, at how her sharp tongue was more attractive than harsh. More than once, he started to catch himself staring at the smooth curves of her back whenever he walked behind her, at how her unruly hair fell down her shoulders…

Asuma tries not to let any surprise betray the neutral expression on his face or show any signs of the sticky-sweet joy he feels in his stomach. It warms him better than any nicotine-laced cancer stick but he refuses to ever admit it. Taking one last drag, he drops the stub on the frosty ground before stamping it out underneath his sandal.

“So don’t give me any of that bullshit,” Kurenai’s voice is firmer now in restoration to a more familiar bluntness. “You’re not going to die on me, alright?”

Her tone straddles the line between a plea and an order as she slides a finger behind her ear, untucking the fringe of hair again. The urge to brush the stray lock aside rears, to let the side of his fingers skim her cheek but Asuma quashes it down.

He gives her an easy smile instead, “Yeah, alright.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

“Good.”

Asuma wonders when the hell this goddamned shift is going to end because he’s freezing out here to the point where he can’t feel his ass sitting on the wooden log. Meanwhile, Kurenai is staring into the fire, thanking him with a smile playing on her lips. He then retracts the thought.

…nah, he’s enjoying this moment way too much to want it to end.


End file.
